


Slow

by stardropdream



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 13:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6612217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porthos draws back, sits back on his heels, smiles up at him in that devilish, dimpling smile.  It’s a rare feat, for Porthos to be the teasing one.  How many times has Aramis been the one to drive him to the edge?  How many times has Aramis been on the receiving end of Porthos’ lack of patience?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to tumblr for the prompt, "Porthos teasing Aramis for hours and then taking him apart with the slowest sex ever." 
> 
> Look at that goddamn original fic title, lol.

Porthos’ mouth around his cock, fingers curled at the base of it. That’s the heart of it – warmth, the drag of his tongue, the pillowing of his lips. He bucks his hips up, gasping out, mouth open around the beginning of a plea—

Porthos draws back, sits back on his heels, smiles up at him in that devilish, dimpling smile. It’s a rare feat, for Porthos to be the teasing one. How many times has Aramis been the one to drive him to the edge? How many times has Aramis been on the receiving end of Porthos’ lack of patience when it comes to sex?

Now, though, Porthos’ hands press to his thighs, pin him back against the wall, presses sloppy kisses at his hips. Aramis whimpers out once, rocks his hips up to try to coax Porthos’ mouth back – but he declines in favor of dragging his teeth over the slump of his stomach. 

It’s been like this for too long now – Aramis has lost count of the moments that Porthos has been in front of him like this, mouth upon him. As soon as Aramis feels as if he can coax himself to climax, Porthos drifts away again. Grins at him, all teeth and dimples, eyes sparkling from the inside out. Aramis’ knees go weak, he’ll admit to that much – his heart heavy in his throat, thick with love. 

But the frustration is palpable. He’s been drawn to the edge of pleasure again and again, only for Porthos to move back, to kiss over his shivering body, hands on him to keep him in place. Because Aramis is content to play this game, even as it drives him insane, he only twists his fingers into Porthos’ hair – tries to keep him close.

“Porthos,” he whines out and Porthos laughs out, and he sounds breathless, overwhelmed – Aramis can see he’s hard, too, but he hasn’t touched himself. He’s focused too much on Aramis – to prove he can, to wipe the smirk off Aramis’ face. 

“Doing good?” Porthos asks, because he is a cruel, wonderful man.

Before Aramis can answer, Porthos’ mouth swallows down around his cock, bobs around him, cups his hips to coax him forward to thrust into his mouth. Aramis moans out, weakly, thrusts into his mouth with just the barest edge of desperation. He can feel the curve of Porthos’ smile. 

He feels like an eternity later when Porthos lets him come. He swallows him down as Aramis cries out, shudders, rocks forward and ruts. He slumps forward in time for Porthos to rise to his feet, curl him into his arms, kiss his neck and shoulder, his jaw, his lips – and Aramis tastes himself, a murmur of happiness passing between their mouths. Contentment, then.


End file.
